Kara Sevda
by JamesLuver
Summary: Years have passed by in the blink of an eye, and yet the people within these hallowed halls haven't changed much in the decade that she's been away.


**A/N:** I was meant to post this in the week following S06E04, but real life has been crazy and I struggled to find the time to get it done. I have a thing for other people fangirling over A/B, so here we are.

 _Kara Sevda_ apparently means "a deep, passionate love" in Turkish (I also read it means "blind love" too, but I'm going with the former for this). It doesn't necessarily fit but this fic has been titleless until tonight and I was desperate.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

 _Kara Sevda_

Years have passed by in the blink of an eye, and yet things still haven't changed much in the decade that she's been away from these hallowed halls.

It's by a different entrance that she enters this time, quavering only slightly in the best clothes she owns, feeling slightly out of place in the sumptuous drawing room with the people she had once curtseyed for. There is only one comforting face in the form of Mr. Branson, but she can't cling to him without raising perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

Years have passed by in the blink of an eye, and yet the people within these hallowed halls haven't changed much in the decade that she's been away. Thomas is still the snake in the grass that he had always been, finding pleasure in upsetting others and making himself feel superior.

Thankfully, his little ploy doesn't work, and the reminder of Lady Sybil's endless kindness saves her from what could have been a very uncomfortable interlude (Lady Mary, despite what Anna has written at times, doesn't seem to have thawed much). The luncheon ends on a nostalgic note, with every person in the room remembering Lady Sybil's beautiful soul.

When the eating is over and they are back in the drawing room, she takes Lord Grantham aside.

"I was wondering if I might go below stairs," she says awkwardly, wondering if she should tag on a polite _milord_. "I would like to see my old friends before I go, if that's possible."

Lord Grantham smiles at her. "Of course. In fact, why don't I escort you? Keep your husband company while you have a catch up?"

"That would be very kind. Thank you," she says, genuinely touched by the man's benevolence.

Lady Edith tags along too, leaving the rest of them to drink coffee and discuss the estate. Gwen's stomach churns with each step that she takes. She sees Mrs. Patmore waiting at the entrance to the servants' hall, before she disappears inside to announce her arrival. She almost feels like a queen, receiving a regal welcome.

And then they're all there in front of her. Some members of staff have come and gone, but the barebones remain: Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes (on honeymoon, no less—Gwen certainly hadn't seen that one coming), Daisy and Mrs. Patmore (still a perfect double act), Thomas (who she has already had the displeasure of meeting again), Mr. Molesley, up from the village (it's so strange to see him kitted out as a footman when he'd always seemed so proud of his work at Crawley House)…and Mr. Bates and Anna (Mr. Bates and _Mrs. Bates_ ).

Anna leaps forward at once, firing her with a barrage of questions about her children and her new home and her life.

She laughs, and says, "All right! Let's begin at the beginning. But afterwards I'd like to hear all about you." She looks around at her former colleagues' beaming faces as she takes the seat next to Anna.

For the next fifteen minutes she fills them in on her life. Anna brightens at the mention of her children, Henry and Samuel, eagerly pursuing that line of conversation. Something niggles in the back of Gwen's mind, but she won't give voice to it in front of so many people. Instead she focuses on the questions that are launched endlessly at her, and then turns the tables. She learns all about Daisy's aspirations to take her school exams, a notion that she heartily approves of after her own missed opportunity in education. Mrs. Patmore gossips about the Carsons. Miss Baxter drifts over shyly, introducing herself to the group. Mr. Molesley shadows her. The other new faces linger in the background, obviously unsure of what to make of this stranger in their midst. She's pleased to see that John is settled well into conversation with Lord Grantham and Mr. Bates. Surprisingly, Anna is largely quiet as the others chatter at her, a tiny, wistful smile playing about her mouth, one hand hidden beneath the line of the table. Gwen wouldn't swear to it, but she thinks that it might be resting against her stomach.

At last, Mrs. Patmore nudges Daisy's shoulder.

"Right, we'd best be getting back to work," she says. "We've dinner to start preparing."

"But Gwen's here!" Daisy protested.

"Is Gwen's presence going to turn the ingredients into an edible meal for the family, as Jesus did when he fed the five thousand? I think not. Now get into that kitchen, missy, and I won't hear another word from you."

Pouting, Daisy stomps out of the room. Mrs. Patmore rolls her eyes at her retreating back, and follows. Miss Baxter murmurs a quiet excuse and glides away, and Mr. Molesley follows like a puppy at her heels. Now only Anna remains.

"This is just like old times, eh?" says Gwen. "Me and you. We stayed up late so many nights gossiping about the people here, didn't we?"

"Really," Anna scolds with a smile that belies her words. "We weren't that bad."

"As I recall, you were rather tight-lipped about one individual under this roof."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do, Anna. I think you and Mr. Bates were this house's worst kept secret. I'm sure I heard _everyone_ speculating about you at one time or another."

"Now _that_ is news to me. I'm not sure I want to know the details."

"Perhaps it's best if I keep them to myself…though let me assure you, when you wrote to say that you'd married, I wasn't the _least_ bit surprised. I mean, yes, I was blown over backwards by the rest of it, but not that little detail. I spent all of my time wondering what had taken you so long. I mean, it made sense when you explained the situation to me, obviously…" God, could she stumble her way through a worse explanation? The last thing she wants to do is drag up the memories of Mr. Bates' deceased first wife.

But Anna only laughs. "It's nice that some people always thought we were destined. There were times that even _I_ struggled to believe that it could all turn out all right."

"Well, they have."

Anna's eyes mist over a little. "Yes. They have."

Now that they're alone, she feels free to tease. "So…should I really be calling you _Mrs. Bates_ now?"

Anna giggles, shy and free. "Hardly. I should think that I'll always be Anna to you."

"I don't know about that. What do they call you here now?"

"You might be surprised, but still mostly Anna. I think they thought it was too much trouble to have Bates and Bates. But I don't mind. Mr. Carson has started to call me Mrs. Bates when he's talking to me, and the only other person I really care about saying it is Mr. Bates himself, and we're covered admirably on that score."

Gwen raises her eyebrow, and Anna blushes. A pet name, perhaps? She's not quite sure that she wants to know.

"You mentioned in your last letter that you were working more now that you have the nanny in place," says Anna, obviously wanting a change in subject before the conversation goes too much into the territory of D. H. Lawrence. "How is that going?"

"Oh, quite well," she responds gratefully. "I've managed to up it to three days a week. I'm hoping to perhaps even make it four once Henry starts school next year."

Letters have been a staple in their relationship since the day she left service. On rare occasions she drops a line for Mrs. Hughes, but she makes time to write to her old friend at least once a month, twice if she can manage it, detailing the things that are going on with her job and her role as a mother, even if time is tight. In return, Anna faithfully details any titbits from the house and her old work colleagues that she might find interesting, and what she and Mr. Bates have been up to.

For a time, Anna's notes had stopped completely, her letters going unanswered. There had been no warning. Initially, Gwen had wondered if her correspondence had got lost in the post, but it went on for so long that it simply wasn't feasible. And then, bit by bit, before Gwen had had the chance to write a worried enquiry to the housekeeper, they had slowly started to trickle forth, like water from thawing ice. Subdued at first, almost as if a stranger was writing them, a creature from another planet trying to mimic Anna's ways and failing. There had been no mention of happiness, no mention of the future. Just the same message each and every time. _I am all right_. _I am all right_. Like a mantra that she could believe if she wrote it enough times.

And then had come the shock, when her letter last July had not been answered in Anna's neat hand, but in a cursive so shaky that she hadn't recognised it at first. Mr. Bates' hand. He had explained to her that Anna had been arrested for pushing a man to his death on a busy street in London, and Gwen had almost keeled over from the complete and utter shock of it. It had been a good thing that her John was in the room with her, catching her before she fell. Mr. Bates' turmoil had been utterly clear from the haphazard wording of the letter, so at odds with the man she remembered. She hadn't been able to bear the thought of the horror he was living through.

She had written back demanding to know more details. Once again her letter had gone unanswered. She had been ready to go down to Downton and find out more for herself when the next letter had dropped through her door.

She had recognised Anna's writing immediately, and had almost buckled to the floor in sweet relief. Her friend was all right.

Except she wasn't. Because Mr. Bates had left the country in order to free her, and she was alone.

Anna had remained mute over the whole incident, and Gwen had backed off after the first few notes, realising that she wasn't going to get through the brick wall that had been built around her old friend's very soul. And while it hurt, she trusted that Anna would tell her if she wanted her to know her troubles. As it was, she had received a letter filled with pure joy in the New Year, declaring that Mr. Bates had returned home for Christmas, and that things could finally start to look up for them.

And now Anna seems serene on smooth waters.

"I'm glad your troubles are over," Gwen blurts out. "I wish I could have come to see you sooner, but I've been so busy with work. It's a pitiful excuse, I know, but—"

"No need to apologise," Anna says firmly, generous as ever. "Besides, that's all in the past now. We've got the future to look forward to, and I can't wait for it."

"And your hopes for the future?" she prompts tentatively. "Children, perhaps…?"

She isn't sure if her eyes are deceiving her when she sees the flicker in Anna's, the shutters going down, the self-erected walls of defence going up. It melts away in the next moment, like the longed-for peace after a war, and she gives a little smile.

"Who knows what the future will bring?" she says airily.

Gwen wants to ask if Anna and Mr. Bates have discussed the matter, if perhaps he is reluctant to have children himself, being older than his wife, but she thinks it would be an impertinence too far. Instead, she agrees, "Who indeed."

"I mean, look at you!" Anna continues. "Working in a government office! None of us would have guessed that when you first started here."

"And is service something you want to keep pursuing?" she asks. "Not that I mean that there's anything wrong with this way of life, just—"

"Stop talking," Anna giggles. "It wouldn't do to insult the hosts. And if Daisy gets wind, she'll have the bit between her teeth again…"

"Is she that bad?"

"Mrs. Patmore complains enough."

"Who would have thought it, though? Daisy a little lioness waiting to pounce?"

"She's blossomed," Anna agrees, then beams wide at something over Gwen's shoulder. Gwen turns, her own lips forming a shy smile. She should have known.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," says Mr. Bates, his voice deep and smooth. His own gaze is latched onto Anna.

"You could never interrupt," says Anna; Gwen fights back a smirk at the way that her friend strokes her fingers at the base of her neck. An unconscious gesture to be sure, but a flirty one all the same. It's a sight that warms her. Plenty of the married couples that she and John know have lost the passion and love that brought them together in the first place. She's glad that Anna and Mr. Bates' marriage hasn't gone the same way despite all the turmoil that they have been forced to live through.

"I haven't had the chance to speak to you yet," says Mr. Bates, "but how are you, Gwen?"

"Very well, thank you, Mr. Bates," she says. "I saw you chatting with Mr. Harding."

"He's a very interesting man. We bonded over experiences in the war, sharing the same name, and both having wives who know exactly what they want." His eyes twinkle, and Anna scowls playfully.

"Careful," she says.

"As if it would ever be an insult."

Gwen clears her throat; they're staring at each other in that openly adoring fashion again. They'd done it back when she worked here too. It had been muted then, of course, but she'd recognise it anywhere. Back in those days, when they had been a trio, Anna and Mr. Bates would shoot each other those intimate, knowing looks, and she would feel quite out of her depth. They had never been rude to her of course, had both gone out of their way to involve her in the conversation (she suspects on some level it had been for their benefit as well as her own). But there had been something undeniable there between them, a kind of spark that had often left her feeling not quite involved despite their kindness. She knows what it is now. A lovers' spark. The kind of intimacy that back then she had been too young to understand and not interested in getting her head around. Their spark has evolved since then. Nothing in the world can mask it now.

"How are you finding Downton upon your return?" Mr. Bates asks, finally dragging his eyes away from Anna's face to focus on her instead. "Much the same as when you left?"

"Perhaps in too many ways," she replies. "The core of it is the same…and yet on some level it doesn't feel right. A bit like trying to wear clothes that no longer fit you. Does that make any sense?"

"Of course. Everything changes with time." Mr. Bates pauses, a slightly wicked grin spreading across his face. "Well, except perhaps for Thomas."

Gwen can't help her snort of laughter at that, mingling with Anna's little high-pitched giggle, even as she half-heartedly admonishes her husband.

Yes, everyone has changed in some way since she was last here, but she sees the biggest change in Mr. Bates now. Before, he had always been quiet and stoic, like a book in a foreign language that she just hadn't been able to puzzle out. His shoulders had always been slumped with the weight of worries, and the deep lines in his face had told of past troubles that wouldn't let him go. Gwen had put most of it down to living and working at Downton when so many had written him off before he'd even started. She hears of him often in Anna's letters to her, but no words could do justice to the changes that the valet has undergone. Now he is like a man reborn. He holds his head high, and he stands tall. He oozes self-confidence and masculinity. And she genuinely can't remember ever seeing him as happy and relaxed as he looks now. It suits his countenance very nicely.

"Anna keeps me informed of everything that you're achieving," Mr. Bates continues. "What did I tell you? I knew you could do it."

"Thank you, Mr. Bates," she beams. "You gave me the confidence to believe in myself. And I think if you believe in yourself, you can achieve absolutely anything."

Man and wife exchange glances. In that split-second, Gwen reads the world: pure, aching longing and melancholy. It's gone in a flash, the mastered servants' masks smoothly back in place, but the brief glimpse of it makes her breath catch.

She doesn't have any time to give it more thought, however, for Mr. Bates says smoothly, "You might be right."

"Anything could happen," Anna supplies; this time, she seems to be actively avoiding her husband's gaze. It's almost as though she is hiding something.

A slightly awkward silence starts to blanket them. Gwen isn't sure how to move on, and Anna doesn't seem to either. Thankfully, Mr. Bates breaks it.

"I'm just stepping outside for a breath of fresh air," he tells them. "Let me know when you're leaving, Gwen. It's been wonderful to have you back here, if only for a flying visit."

"Thank you, Mr. Bates," she says, genuinely touched.

He inclines his head respectfully and limps out of the room.

"I might go with him," Anna murmurs. "I've monopolised enough of your time, and I know the others would love to spend more time with you."

"Don't be silly," she argues. "You could never monopolise me."

"Even so, I'd better check on him. I can hear the daft beggar brooding from here. Honestly, he's terrible for it."

Gwen smiles at the way her old friend has slipped so easily into the role of fussy wife. There had been elements of it before in the past, of course—Anna had made no secret of her worrying about the valet—but there is something invariably sweet about it now. She is catching a glimpse of intimacy after years of longing, and there is something incredibly poignant about it.

"I won't be long," Anna says.

"Don't worry about that. Take your time."

Anna smiles and hurries away. She watches her leave for a moment before returning to the table and re-immersing herself in conversation with Daisy, who has stubbornly reappeared despite Mrs. Patmore's warnings, and Miss Baxter, who is a huge improvement on Miss O'Brien with her gentle smile and softly-spoken manner. However, only a few minutes pass before John approaches, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"We need to leave soon if we're to make the train," he says.

"That went too fast," Daisy complains, perhaps a trifle sulkily.

"Take no notice," says Mrs. Patmore, popping her head around the servants' hall entrance with a sour look. "She's been like a wronged woman for days. Soon she'll start to think that she should take her case to the Houses of Parliament and force her suppressors to yield to her."

Daisy glowers at her, and Gwen suppresses a laugh. She would never have guessed that the mousy young girl who had been terrified every time the cook so much as looked at her would one day grow up to be able to hold her own with the best of them.

"It's been so lovely to see you all again," she says, pushing her chair away from the table. "And meeting you, Miss Baxter," she adds to the lady's maid, who gives a shy little smile.

"I'll pass your regards onto Mrs. Hughes," Mrs. Patmore says. "Maybe one day you can come back and see her too? She'd like that."

"I would like that," Gwen says. She turns to John. "Can we spare a few moments longer?"

"I think so," he says with a quick glance at his pocket watch.

"I just want to say goodbye to Anna. She went outside. I'll not be long."

"All right. I'll see you in a few minutes."

She smiles at him, then leaves the hubbub of the servants' hall behind. Her heels click on the lonely walk to the back door. It seems so strange that the place isn't the hive of activity that it had been before the war. Not that it's surprising—plenty of estates are failing, and more and more people are starting to want more in their lives than bending to the wills of their social superiors. It's clear even from people like Daisy that this life doesn't have the same hold over the working classes that it once had.

When she reaches the back door, she pulls it open and makes to step outside.

And then she freezes.

Anna and Mr. Bates are standing there together.

She's seen them in the courtyard together a thousand times before. But this is different. Before, they had sat with their heads close together as they shared low conversation, but their bodies had always been the appropriate distance apart, ensuring that no one could accuse them of any impropriety. All that is gone now. Now, tucked away in a partially-hidden alcove, Anna stands in the circle of her husband's arms, her hands splayed across his chest. Mr. Bates' head is dipped further down to her level, and Gwen sees that Anna has risen on her tiptoes, evening the height discrepancy between the two of them. They are murmuring lowly to one another now, halfway through a conversation, but the words carry in the quiet of the courtyard.

"You look radiant," she hears Mr. Bates say, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Anna's face.

"I'm happy," she replies. "It's been so long since I last saw Gwen. Writing isn't quite the same, is it? I've missed her, and it's been lovely to have a catch up."

Gwen's heart leaps at the testimonial; Lady Sybil had been her friend in many respects despite the differences in their social standings, but Anna had been more than that. Anna had been like her sister. They had shared almost everything in the years that they had shared a bedroom, and knowing that Anna places the same weight on their friendship despite the passage of time makes her feel light. Happy beyond reason. She resolves that she will make more of an effort to keep in physical contact. With the work that she does, her time off is limited, but lord knows it's nothing like the timetable of a servant.

"And…it didn't upset you?" Mr. Bates ventures.

Anna shakes her head, smoothing one palm against the lapel of his jacket. "Why would it upset me?"

"You know why."

The words, spoken with a mix of tenderness and tentativeness, linger in the air between them for a few moments. Gwen frowns. What is that supposed to mean? What part of her life would upset Anna? That is the last thing that she would ever wish on the other woman. If she had known that there was something that would be painful for her, then she would have made certain that the topic of conversation had never strayed in that direction.

"I'm fine," Anna says firmly. "Truly."

"But—"

She reaches up and presses her finger to his lips, silencing him immediately. "No buts, John. I have never been better."

John. It sounds foreign, _wrong_ to hear the stoic valet's Christian name uttered in such an intimate tone. To her, he will always be Mr. Bates.

Gwen still blushes to think that at one time she too had had a crush on the kind and soulful Mr. Bates. Perhaps it had been the way that he had always stood by the underdog, not allowing Thomas to get away with his bullying of William. Perhaps it had gone far beyond that—Mr. Bates had, after all, staunchly supported her desire to do something more with her life than just turning down the beds of her betters. Even now, so many years on, she will never forget the way that he had taken her aside in one of the bedrooms and reassured her that she could change her life if she wanted to.

It may never have gone beyond a little crush for her, but the way that Anna is looking at her husband, as if he is the whole world…

They had never spoken properly about Anna's feelings for the stoic Mr. Bates. There had been times when she had tried to get her friend to open up to what she might be feeling, but Anna had stubbornly refused to admit to anything other than friendship.

" _Honestly,"_ she'd scolded on many occasions, _"you read too many romance novels. It's giving you some very silly ideas. Mr. Bates and I are good friends, that's all. You can be friends with someone of the opposite sex without it having to mean anything."_

And it was possible, like Gwen had been friends with William (bless his brave soul). But Gwen had seen the way that they'd been together when they'd thought that no one else was looking. The way that Anna would gaze at Mr. Bates with her heart in her eyes. The way that his eyes would follow her out of the room and linger longingly at the space that she had just vacated, as if his life was not worth living without her presence in it. The way that they would walk a tad too close together as they ambled slowly down the country roads paces behind everyone else, their arms brushing, as if they would like nothing more than to walk proudly hand in hand.

To see the end result of that aching longing is a beautiful thing. She feels privileged that she has gained a little insight into their relationship.

In the present, Mr. Bates smiles, reaching up to gently pull Anna's hand away from his mouth. He lowers it back to their sides, but he does not let go.

"There has been a glow about you lately," he notes. "It suits you."

"A glow, you say?"

"A glow. It radiates from you. My very own angel."

Anna giggles, swinging their joined hands a little. "You are a charmer."

"Then perhaps that's what it is about me that you couldn't quite put your finger on at Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes' wedding," he murmurs.

"Oh no, Mr. Bates, it's more than that. It's far more than that," she replies, and Gwen instinctively knows that a kiss will follow. She is not wrong.

Anna stretches up on her tiptoes once more, and their hands fall away from each other to wrap around each other's bodies; Mr. Bates' hands find Anna's waist while she winds her arms around his neck, her fingers disappearing into his thick hair. For a split-second they gaze into one another's eyes, and then their mouths meet.

The kiss is soft and tender and lingering. She hears Anna sigh contentedly, burrowing closer as if she could disappear right into her husband's strong chest. In that moment, Gwen sees the love that flows between them, the perfect culmination of over a decade of knowing each other. It's everything that she was privy to when she too used to be a housemaid, and all the more too. It is the kiss of true lovers.

When they eventually pull away, Mr. Bates presses his lips to Anna's forehead, nuzzling against her hair.

"I love you," he breathes.

"I love you too," she echoes, her voice wavering with so much affection, and Gwen averts her eyes as she pulls him back in for another kiss. But time is ticking away, and she can't linger like a ghost of the past for much longer. So, finding the door handle behind her, she opens it slowly and creeps back inside. Waiting a beat to compose herself, she opens the door again, making a show of banging it against the wall, making enough noise to rouse the dead. When she steps outside again, husband and wife are a respectable distance apart. The only thing that might tell of any impropriety is the overly-bright eyes, the flushed, happy cheeks.

"There you are," Gwen says brightly. "I've just come to say goodbye. We're leaving."

Anna pats down her hair, moving forward. She hesitates for a moment before throwing her arms around her. Taken by surprise, Gwen beams as she squeezes her back.

"It's been so lovely seeing you," Anna says. "I do hope we might see you in these parts again."

"I'd like that," she agrees, then peers over her friend's shoulder to see Mr. Bates leaning against his cane, cool and collected, a content smile on his own face.

"Gwen," he says, holding out his hand for her to shake. "It's been a pleasure. I'm sorry that I didn't get to spend quite as much time with you, but I thought you'd like a catch up with the women."

"I've always time to catch up with you too, Mr. Bates," she answers, then adds cheekily, "though I'm sure Anna has filled me in on everything that I need to know about the two of you."

"Good things, I hope," he says, looking to his wife. There is no masking the affection in his eyes.

"What do you think?" Anna scoffs, rolling her eyes. The pleased smile that tugs at the corners of her own mouth gives her away.

"Sometimes I have no idea what you're thinking…"

"Anyway," Gwen interrupts quickly, before they can get too lost in their own world—it seems to her that it's a frequent occurrence now that they are man and wife. "My husband is waiting inside for me. I don't suppose you can come and see us off?"

"I'm not sure Mr. Carson would have liked it, but he isn't here now. Actually, I'm not sure that Mr. Barrow will allow us."

"Thomas is not butler material," Mr. Bates scoffs. "If he was supposed to be proving something then he has sorely failed."

This is something that Gwen can agree with; Mr. Carson may not have approved of her decision to keep quiet about her previous employment at Downton, but he would never have ousted her and humiliated her in front of the family like that.

"I'm sure his lordship will be more than happy for us to see you off," Mr. Bates continues. "He's a good man."

That seems to settle the matter, and the three of them return inside together. John is loitering by the door.

"I thought you'd got lost out there," he says with a smile.

"I was just reminiscing," she says lightly; she won't betray her friends. "I spent so many hours out there."

"I would like to visit again one day, if Lord Grantham would allow it. You could show me around a little more. Perhaps even bring the children, if it's not too much trouble to Lord Grantham. I'm sure they would love to see where their mama came from."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" says Anna, clasping her hands together. Her eyes are shining, and Mr. Bates casts her the same probing look that Gwen had noticed earlier.

"But now we really must be going if we're to catch the train back to York. It's been nice to meet you all, and to be a part of Gwen's past in some way," John says, glancing at his pocket watch.

Gwen finds the rest of the staff waiting for her by the servants' staircase, along with Lord Grantham and Lady Edith. They all wish her well in varying degrees of enthusiasm—she notices that Thomas only casts her a surly look, not opening his mouth to speak—and indeed Lord Grantham is the one to suggest that everyone should go upstairs to see them off. Gwen remembers a time when it would have been a crime for Mrs. Patmore or Daisy to be seen out of the kitchen. She bids them all a last goodbye and follows John up the stairs, leaving the rest of her old friends to traipse through the servants' entrance to meet them at the front of the house. It is the end of the easy atmosphere. When she emerges through the front door, they are all standing like ramrods, staring straight ahead, as would be befitting any noble guest. It makes her sad to see, that through her marriage she is considered their social superior. She wonders if Mr. Branson still feels that way, even so many years after his own marriage. Surely it is a sensation that would never grow old. She's sure that she would feel very lonely with it if she was subjected to it every day of her life.

John shakes hands with the members of the Crawley family, and Gwen follows suit. And then it is time to leave. She casts one last longing look at her old friends, and then clambers into the car. The engine starts, and slowly, the motor begins to pull away. She twists one more time to get the full effect of the majestic abbey towering beautifully above all its other surroundings, before her eyes find the row of servants once more.

The family have already disappeared back inside, and the staff are beginning to leave. Anna and Mr. Bates linger for a few moments, as they always had done in the past, bodies turned towards each other, standing so close that it's almost socially unacceptable. Even with the growing distance, Gwen sees the way that Mr. Bates reaches out to touch his wife's hand, the intensity of the way that they're looking each other. It's almost enough to make her blush, a gaze for private moments alone. But she can't be too embarrassed. The pair have been through so much. It's about time that something goes right for them. And she thinks perhaps it is.

Smiling to herself, Gwen thinks that perhaps it won't be long before she receives a letter with some happy news after all.


End file.
